


hiraeth

by dushku



Series: A Home You Can't Return To [1]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eddie Thawne as Cobalt Blue, Multi, The Rogues (DCU) As Family, but i miss my boy eddie, he deserved better, listen i know its been ages
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2019-07-10 04:29:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15941801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dushku/pseuds/dushku
Summary: He was dead. He'd shot himself - he was a hero. It was all over. Then, why was he stood in an abandoned warehouse surrounded by the shattered remains of what looked like a fight? And was that fire raging blue?Hurt, confused and powers slowly developing, Eddie is lost. With Team Flash thinking he's dead, he has nowhere to go. When a familiar man wearing a blue parka approaches Eddie and offers him a place on his band of Rogues, well, what else is Eddie going to do?[Slow Updates]





	1. Awaken

**Author's Note:**

> I'm stating right now that all I know about Cobalt Blue is from articles and the Fandom Wiki. I've not touched the comics, so sorry if it doesn't follow the lore exactly - either way, this is just a fun little AU I wanted to write, and here it is.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confused, Eddie pulled himself to his feet and looked around, taking in his surroundings. He was no longer at S.T.A.R. Labs, that was for certain. 
> 
> Was he even dead?

In. Out. In. Out. Gasping. Blue eyes shot open and Eddie lurched forward, eyes wide as he drew in short, sharp breaths. Coughs wracked his frame, and he patted his torso; hands frantically searching his body. They stilled as they grazed a rough patch of his shirt. He glanced down at the dark, brown stain flowered on the starch white. Eddie's eyebrows furrowed together, and he tugged the fabric from out of the waistband of his trousers before sliding his hand up, underneath his shirt, to his chest where the skin lay smooth and undamaged... _undamaged?_  

Confused, Eddie pulled himself to his feet and he looked around, taking in his surroundings. He was no longer in S.T.A.R. Labs, that was for certain. Shattered glass lay strewn across the cracked floor of what looked like an abandoned warehouse, or maybe a factory? Crates, boxes, and other containers were torn up and trashed. Large splinters of wood were spread around the building like they had been at the centre of an explosion, and cold, harsh air was blowing in from the door hanging from a hinge across the far end of the room. Moonlight streamed in through the smashed window high above the detective, along with the noise that came with being close to the city. 

 _City._ Eddie spun around once more, trying to grasp what had happened. He was dead. He'd shot himself - he was a hero. It was all over. Eobard was gone. Then, why was he stood in an abandoned factory surrounded by the shattered remains of what looked like a fight? And was that fire raging _blue?_ Slow, careful steps were taken towards the fire consuming the remains of a wooden crate. Eddie held his hand out, fingers grazing the flames as they licked and danced their way around the wood. His hands reached closer and closer, but he could not feel the heat radiating from the flames. Soon his hand was engulfed by the blue, and yet no harm came to him. 

"Wha-" Eddie recoiled, holding his hand to his chest as he stared at the fire in confusion. He began to walk towards the exit, feet gaining speed as feelings of fear and anxiety began to quell.

Splosh. A shoe hitting the surface of a puddle was what broke the silence that had enveloped the room. It was followed by the sound of Eddie's shoes as he made his way through the factory's corridors. Row after row after row of wooden crates, all stacked to the brim with different products and items, line the hallway, making the already narrow path even narrower. 

His mind was preoccupied with worry-filled thoughts and questions while his feet guided him down a hallway to the left of the factory's storage room, following a furious, yet undeterminable muffled noise that could be heard through the walls. It appeared to be getting louder and louder with each step that was taken. 

The purple laminate floor was stained in patches of many different substances, ranging from the ash of a cigarette to the oil from a piece of machinery. When he thought about it, Eddie wasn't even sure that the factory had been in operation in years. The noise was closer now, and Eddie could decipher that it was actually the sound of multiple voices, in deep conversation or a hushed argument. 

"What th' bloody hell we doin' here?" A gruff, yet familiar voice, spoke. Whoever it was, they sounded like they vehemently disagreed with whoever they were with. 

"Jesse wanted us to pick up parts for his latest trick," Another familiar voice responded. 

“Look at you, Snart,” The first voice spoke, the gruffness of his voice now laced with a tinge of amusement. “Going soft for a lunatic.”

Snart. Leonard Snart, also known as Captain Cold. He was here? Eddie remembered the time he’d watched the Flash take them both down – he’d helped, partly; giving the Flash cover as he fired bullets at the two supervillains as their guns lit up the darkened street they had been in. Then, that meant that the other man who was talking had to be Mick Rory… or Heatwave, as Central City had dubbed the villain.

At least it meant Eddie was still in Central, right?

 _Central City_. _Darkness. Two speedsters; Barry Allen and Harrison Wells – no, it was Eobard Thawne. His descendant. Eddie watched as Eobard landed punch after punch on Barry, knocking his cowl off his face. Eddie couldn’t comprehend it. He was an ancestor to this... this monster that murdered Barry’s mother, along with the real Dr. Wells and his wife. Eddie watched in horror as Eobard’s hand tightened on Barry’s throat, his distorted voice threatening the Scarlet Speedster._

 _He, Joe and Cisco watched, helpless. What could they do against a metahuman? They couldn’t do anything against Eobard Thawne._ Thawne. _He was related. They shared the same blood. He_ could _keep everyone safe. He could keep Iris safe. Fumbling as his heart pounded, his hands scrambled to get the gun at his hip. He slid the cold iron out of its holster and stared at it as he held it in a tight grip, hands trembling._

_He turned the barrel of the gun upwards, towards his heart. He fired it as he drew in a breath. The bang resounded in the basement of S.T.A.R. Labs. Everything seemed to slow for Eddie. He watched as Eobard let Barry go and start to spaz, distortion reaching a max._

_“Eddie! What did you do?” Joe screamed, running over and catching him as his knees hit the floor. “What did you do?!” Eddie didn’t respond, eyes glazed and unmoving from a patch on the floor. White hot pain blossomed in his chest, and Eddie tried to hold on for as long as he could. To say goodbye to Iris. “What did you do?!” Joe yelled again, carefully lying Eddie down._

_“No such thing as a conscience,” Eddie grinded out between clenched teeth._

_He registered Barry’s distant voice asking, “What’s happening?”_

_“E-Eddie’s his ancestor,” Cisco said, explaining Eddie’s thought process. “If Eddie dies, he’ll never be born and…” Cisco looked to Eobard. “He’s being erased from existence!”_

_“No! No! Eddie!” Iris’ voice sounded like an angel’s in the hell Eddie was putting her through. “Stay with me, okay?” She demanded, holding Eddie’s head in her hands. “Stay.” Tears rolled down Iris’ face as she saw Eddie drifting in and out of consciousness, clearly losing the fight._

_“He was wrong, it turns out,” Eddie gasped out. “I’m a hero after all.”_

_“You are, Eddie. You are my hero.”_

_“That’s all I ever wanted to be; your hero.”_

_And he was._

Eddie heaved a sigh, leaning against the wall. His eyes slipped closed as the memory flashed in his mind. He grasped at his heart, pain still throbbing and coursing through his tired, aching body, although the bullet and the wound were long gone. Shaky, laboured breaths escaped past Eddie’s lips as he slid down the wall, curling in on himself. Silent tears streamed as Eddie tucked his head in between his knees.

 _In. Out. In. Out. Gasping_. The breaths that Eddie was drawing in became rapid and more frequently until it felt like he couldn’t breathe at all. Tears burned and blurred his vision.

Heavy footfalls sent Eddie gasping once more, heading shooting up as he saw two blurry pairs of shoes stop in his eye-line. One pair caked in mud and dust, and the other looking like heavy-duty snow boots. Eddie tilted his head up more, red, puffy eyes connecting with the icy blue ones belonging to Leonard Snart.

“What do we have here—Detective Thawne?” Leonard was rarely surprised, but to find one of the Flash’s associates having a mental breakdown in a factory on the outskirts of the city was something that would shock even the Tricksters (and those two were absolutely crazy).

No reply. Eddie’s eyes had slipped closed once more, and he had slumped back, out cold.

 


	2. Confusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lisa arrives at the Rogues' latest safehouse and wants to know why a strange man is passed out on their couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recently added this to this story's summary, but this will have slow updates as this year is an important year for me, and I won't have a lot of free time. But, when I do, expect chapters to come flooding in!

“Lenny?” Lisa’s confusion floated around the living room in the Rogues’ latest safe house. She had expected to arrive to find the male Rogues surrounding the TV, watching whatever cheapo pay-per-view they watched, each with a bottle of beer in their hands. What she didn’t expect, however, was to find a stranger passed out on the couch, a blanket was strewn over him.

“Yes, sister dear?” Len’s monotonic, yet sarcastic, voice responded. He leaned on the doorframe, arms folded, and parka gone.

“Jerk,” She said, mock-glare sent her brother’s way. “Why is there a hobo on our couch?”

Len snorted, rolling his eyes. “If I knew why Scarlet had the friends he did…” 

“Scarlet?” Lisa cast a glance down at the still form on the couch. “He’s one of Flash’s pets? Why’s he here?”

“So he owes me a favour,” Len replied. Pushing himself from the doorframe by his shoulder, Len stood up straight and sent a smirk at Lisa. She shook her head and gestured to the orange-wool blanket haphazardly thrown over the man. “The blanket was Axel’s touch.”

“He looked cold – ‘specially since you carried him in!” Axel cut in as he walked past the room. “Besides, Hartley’s rats chewed through it; was gonna throw it out anyways.”

“Hey!” Hartley’s yell coming from upstairs reminded those downstairs of his superior hearing. “The only reason _Rathaniel_ chewed through that musty old thing was because _you_ set fire to his last one!”

“When will you let that go?!” Axel’s response from the kitchen was heard. “Seriously, that thing was horrifically ugly!”

“Bite me, Axel!”

A groan drew Mick and the Snart siblings’ attention from the youngest Rogues to the guest waking up on the couch. Eddie’s eyes blinked slowly as he began to wake up. Suddenly, he shot up, once again not knowing where he was. He looked around the room, eyes gazing over the beat-up couches and arm-chairs, old statues and paintings, static TV and the Rogues.

… Wait, what?

“Captain Cold?” Eddie croaked out, his throat dry and voice laced with confusion. “Uh, Heatwave?” Eddie glanced at Lisa. “Sorry, I don’t think I know you.”

“Lisa,” She provided helpfully. “Though Cisco does call me Golden Glider.”

Eddie nodded absentmindedly, casting another look around the room. “Is, uh, is there a reason I’m in your living room?”

“Mick and I carried you here; after your little debacle in that factory, Detective.” Len didn’t lift his eyes as he fiddled with the dial on his cold gun.

“Oh,” Eddie said dryly. “Why?”

“So you owe me a favour,” Len finally turned his gaze to Eddie, who shifted uncomfortably under the harsh glint in Len’s eyes. “But we’ll get to that later. What I want to know is why a … respectable detective like yourself was having a meltdown in an abandoned factory?”

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Eddie muttered, eyes downcast. Len raised an eyebrow and Eddie cleared his throat. “I would tell you if I knew.”

“So, you jus’ go to abandoned buildings to cry for the heck of it?” Mick asked, amused.

Eddie set his jaw and returned his eyes to Rathaniel’s destruction, his fingers toying with the knotted threads hanging loosely at the fabric’s edge. Eddie ran his tongue across his teeth and considered yelling at the pyromaniac that he had no idea what he was saying, and if Mick knew what he had been through… Then, again, Mick could just kill him.

“I had nowhere else to go,” Eddie said instead.

“Wha’ about Flash and his pals?” Mick spoke up after a moment of silence, letting the Zippo lighter he was fiddling with click to a close. He leaned forward on the armchair, elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward.

There was a pause; Eddie licking his dry lips again. He thought carefully about what to say. “I’m dead to them,” He settled on finally.

“Dead?” Mick seemed to lean forward, even more, looking the most interested he had all night.

“Dead; adjective; no longer alive.”

“And what could you, Detective Thawne, have done to warrant such behaviour from Central’s City saint and his disciples?” Len’s voice made Eddie jump. Len had been so quiet, observing, that Eddie had completely forgotten that he was in the room. “ ‘There’s good in you, Snart’ … Surely there’s some in you, Detective.”

Another pregnant pause collapsed on to the three men and Lisa. Eddie’s tongue darted out once more, buying him some time – would they even believe him? Eddie could barely believe himself.

“Let’s just say—let’s just say that I shot someone—” If the three Rogues were surprised, they didn’t show it. Len’s eyebrow raised again, the motion indicating that Eddie was to continue. “—Someone very dear to them.”

 _Iris._ Eddie’s heart sank, and his head turned to his hands clasped tightly on his lap. He thought about the women he loved, and then he thought about the horror that Eddie had pushed her through, even after she had been through it before when Eobard had taken him. The hell he had caused, and all for what? He was still alive. Eddie’s eyes widened marginally and he could feel the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He was alive… did that mean Eobard was too? Had Eddie failed? Was everyone okay? Did that mean Barry’s mo—

Eddie’s tirade of thoughts came barrelling to a stop when something soft, and slightly wet, collided with his face and landed in his hands. An old cloth covered in grease and motor oil lay scrunched in his palms. He looked up to Mick, who was staring at him with an unimpressed, almost irritated, expression plastered on his face.

“Can’t deal with criers,” Mick sniffed. “Just like kids.”

“So, what?” Len continued, probing for more details of Eddie’s story, blatantly ignoring the fact that Mick had spoken. “You shoot someone—” He didn’t comment on Eddie’s violent flinch “—and then decide to run off and destroy a factory?” Eddie would dare say that Len looked impressed. “Can you produce fire at will?”

“Fire? What fire? _What are you talking about?”_  Eddie’s eyebrows knitted themselves together in confusion.

“Listen, kid. There’s no use lyin’,” Mick said. “We dragged you out of that danger hole.” He sent a look to Len that Eddie could not decipher. “And you’re little blue flame magic trick kinda got in the way of that. The least you can do is tell us the truth.”  


The blue flame magic trick? Did Mick mean those flames that had swallowed the factory’s storage room, yet didn’t spread, didn’t cause him any harm?

“That was me?” Eddie asked, looking up at Len and Mick. Something seemed to click inside Len’s head because his expression and demeanour changed.

“You really don’t know, do you?”

Eddie mulled over his words, then finally shook his head.

“Huh.”


	3. Familiarity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With nothing left to lose, Eddie accepts his place in Central City's Rogues. He still misses the life he left behind and he isn't sure whether he likes his new one, but one thing is for certain - Eddie didn't expect to see a familiar face so soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back - back again...
> 
> Sorry I've been gone so long - I have no excuse, just writers block. I wanted to update this now, though it may be edited in the future. Enjoy!

It had been one month. In one month, a lot can happen. Take being saved by some supervillains, for example. Starting to live with them in their secret hideout, starting to aid in their criminal activities. Okay, so, that wasn't supposed to be on Eddie's top-ten-things-I've-achieved-in-my-life list, but here he was. Alone. As a detective, Eddie had always thought he'd be recognised for something great, something heroic, like taking down dangerous criminals, not building their ranks... But here he was. Alone. In the corner of a jewellery shop, a lookout for two of Central City's Rogues. 

He shifted uncomfortably in the corner of the darkened shop, gazing nowhere in particular. Eddie stared at the concrete floor outside, face hidden behind the old, navy blue cloak that he wore - it was Hartley's old thing; an old costume design before it had been replaced by his iconic green hoodie. A grunt from Mick drew Eddie's attention to where the pyromaniac was ducking down behind the till, pulling it apart and grabbing whatever cash was inside. 

"Head up, Detective," Mick's gruff was muffled by the counter. "The whole point of you being a lookout is that you're meant to _look_."

"Sorry." Eddie shifted, tugging the oversized hood down further. He was paranoid that someone would come by and see them - or worse, recognise Eddie. He raised his eyes from the flooded car park outside and focused on the pavement on the other side of the street. That was a start, right? No one was there. Then again, the street lamps had died out only half an hour ago, and Eddie could barely see anything in the darkness that fell on the city. 

Len's mocking tut was heard, a shake of the head following as he shoved glittering gem after glittering gem into the duffel bag. "Nope. Villains don't apologize."

"Sorry," Eddie winced under Len's incredulous stare. An awkward cough escaped the recently not-dead man. "But I'm not a villain."

"Not yet, you're not," Mick huffed a laugh, hauling the now full bag onto the counter before hauling himself over. "Don't worry, we'll get you there."

Eddie's head snapped back from where he had been staring intently at what he assumed was a doorway across the street - something didn't seem right - and he left the post he had been assigned, storming across the room to where the two villains were prepping their guns and slinging the bags of loot onto their shoulders.

"Excuse me - 'you'll get me there'? What the hell does that mean?" Eddie snapped, arms crossed. He sent his best glare to the other men and failed to realise that it didn't work on the Rogues of Central. "I didn't agree to this!"

"That's the point, Detective Thawne," Len smirked.

"The _point_?!" 

Silence befell the three men. Eddie's eyes flickered over the bags and bags that lined the floor and glanced to the van waiting outside. Muffled footsteps drummed a tune on the battered floor as Mick bashed open the back door, leading into the room behind the store’s main lobby.

“You agreed to be the lookout.” Len spoke up after a few moments of silence. The bags were back on the floor and the two supervillains had restarted their search of anything of value. Shelves were rifled through and no cupboard was left unturned as the two men made their way through the store room. Eddie leaned on the doorframe, trying his best to look casual – and the tiniest bit suave. “That’s something.”

“You say it like I had another choice,” Eddie paused, eyebrows furrowing together briefly. “I didn’t have another choice, did I?”

Both villains rolled their eyes and Len gestured with his cold gun. Mick and Eddie followed behind their leader, walking out of the store and into the cold. Three silhouettes reached the back of the van, faces and identities obscured by the unbreaking darkness that had settled on the city and its people. No light was seen for miles, every building and home surrendering to the total blackout swallowing the city. Whispers of anger and hurt loomed in the back of Eddie’s mind while he watched the two villains – and no matter how many times he said that word, he would never get over the fact that he was _helping_ villains – load their goods into the back of the van that matched the colour of the sky.

He cast a glare down at the cloak he wore, silently blaming it for all the trouble that it had caused; if he hadn’t found it in the Rogues’ kitchen, then Len would never have gotten the stupid idea in his head that Eddie could be a useful asset to the heists that were pulled in the future. As if. Eddie could barely steal a cookie from the cookie jar when he was younger without his mother catching him in the _planning_ , not even the act! What made a group of powerful thieves ever consider him one of their own? Factor in that he still didn’t understand anything, from how he was still alive to how he had powers that he didn’t quite have the grips on just yet, and Eddie was beyond lost. It was a wonder he made detective in the first place.

As the wind picked up, Eddie’s scowl deepened, and he resorted to wrapping the thin material around his body. Stupid Hartley. Why couldn’t his first designs have been something practical? At least Len and Mick had their thick coats to protect them from the harsh winter wind—that wasn’t the winter wind. A blur of red whizzed across their vision and Eddie's heart froze. No. Not here. Not now.

“Snart!” Barry yelled, and hearing the man’s voice after so long was like a punch to the gut. “What have I said about taking things that don’t belong to you?”

“You said not to,” Len replied coolly (no pun intended) before grinning madly. “But how could I when people have items that are so much prettier than my own?”

Eddie averted his eyes, subconsciously tugging the hood further down, hoping against hope that it was enough to hide himself. His heart pounded a samba in his chest and he could feel his throat closing up. 

He just had to get away. Len and Mick drew their weapons with a graceful ease, and Barry was preparing for the fight. Eddie worried his lip between his teeth, trying his best to look anything but suspicious. Instead, he hopped into the back of the van and sat amongst the duffel bags, tugging the cloak around him – it was dark enough not to be seen, right? His hands rested on his knees, clenching and unclenching. Harsh, deep breaths were the only noises cutting through the silence of the vehicle. It seemed that the fight outside had either stopped or moved further away, because Eddie could no longer hear Barry’s running or the violent blasts from Len’s cold gun or Mick’s heat ray.

 _This wasn’t supposed to happen_ Eddie thought angrily. _‘Oh, it’s just one job, Detective. I’m sure you can handle it. You’ve seen loads after your years on the force, haven’t you?’_ Eddie mocked silently, Len’s monotone voice filling his head. _Look where that got us!_

Hopefully Barry wouldn’t even know he was here.

“Oi, Pretty Boy!” Mick’s angry yell was heard, and the noises of the fight were back. “Back up would be nice!”

…And that would be a no.

“What happened to ‘lookout’?” Eddie grumbled to himself, hauling his shaky body onto his feet. With one final tug to the cloak’s hood, he hopped out of the van with considerable ease – something that Axel had taught him; “All villains need to hop out of vehicles in style, Ed!” – his boots hitting the concrete with a thud.

His hands hung next to his thighs, fingers splayed as he felt the familiar tingle that had graced his body since he had been revived. It flowed through him, coursing through his veins and flooding his existence. It thrummed in him. And no matter how much he owed Len and his Rogues for what they had done for him the past month, he could not lay a hand on Barry. Not now, not ever.

Instead, a small range of fire protruded from Eddie’s hands and shot forward, almost as fast as Barry could run. It landed a mere two feet from Barry, who stared at the blue flames with a mixture of shot and confusion. Okay, so maybe he needed work.

Barry’s eyes narrowed slightly – Eddie guessed either Caitlyn or Cisco was talking in his ear, a tactic or analysis being relayed to him. He turned from Len and Mick, who were sprawled out on the floor, guns no where in sight. Great.

Eddie tried again, his hands raised as he tried to channel… whatever it was that he had and use it against Barry – once again, reminding himself to not hurt the other man. He could never forgive himself if something bad happened because of him. It had already happened. Eddie’s arms drooped slightly as his thoughts were turned back to the night at S.T.A.R. Labs, and within that second, Barry gained the upper hand, speeding without so much as a sound and knocking Eddie, who stumbled backwards.

Slowly, a stark contrast for Barry, he turned to face the cloaked… meta?

“Who are you?” Barry’s commanding voice cut through the tension rising. Eddie didn’t respond. His hands remained by his thighs as his fingers clicked, sharp, neon blue embers sparking off in every direction. It was taken as a warning and Barry sped forward, body colliding harshly with Eddie’s and sending the blond flying backwards. He landed somewhere on the other side of the car park with a groan and he rolled onto his side. Just because he didn’t want to hurt Barry didn’t mean he couldn’t protect himself.

Balls of fire blue were catapulted at Barry, who had taken the moment to slowly walk. What was with him tonight? Using his speed, Barry tilted his body so that each fireball glided by him, barely grazing his suit as he advanced on who Barry assumed was the new Rogue.

Another command must have floated down the comm set because the next thing Eddie knew, a hand was under his arm and he was flying once more, landing not-so-gracefully on the concrete, this time with a hard crunch under his body. An uncontrolled scream wrenched itself from Eddie’s throat and echoed in the quiet. A stream of curses and ‘ows’ resonated.

Barry froze in his tracks, both figuratively and literally. As Len had finally gotten to his feet, he used the Flash’s distraction to an advantage, sticking the superhero to his spot with his cold gun. The two villains wove around the speedster, taunting him as they stalked to the fallen third man and hauled him to his feet, dragging him towards the van stashed full of goods. Barry’s eyes widened. In the struggle, the man’s hood had fallen down to reveal messy, unkempt blond hair and icy blue eyes.

 His jaw dropped, and he could barely form the word as the van tore off, tires screeching. It could barely be heard, and as Cisco and Caitlyn’s frantic calls of ‘Barry!’ blared in his ear, he was deaf to it. One whisper floated into the early hours of the morning, one word that Barry didn’t think he would ever utter again in the context it was used in now.

 

“ _Eddie?_ ”

 


	4. Dubious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry bit the inside of his cheek, the sounds of his friends deep in conversation seeming further and further away as he delved deeper into his thoughts. There was someone he needed to see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have no excuses for why im posting 139 days after my last update. but im back with another chapter! [side note: it was my birthday 9/4/19!! ya boi's sixteen :.) - though the daunting realisation of GCSEs slowly consumes me ;-;]
> 
> idk if this is shorter than the other chapters, but I only just finished writing it and I really wanted to upload something for y'all (you know, if you're still reading)

Harsh, heavy breaths slipped out of Barry's mouth, continuing even after he had broken himself free from the ice trapping his feet. Hands on his knees, Barry was bent over and his head was swirling: _Was that Eddie? It can't have been! Was it Hannibal Bates? Had Len recruited him? Had he assumed Eddie's form once more, unaware of the fact that he was dead?_ Barry paused thinking, and then frowned. _No, Bates is dead. Then, who was it?_

Barry had been so consumed by his thoughts that he hadn't realised his feet were on auto-pilot until he was outside S.T.A.R. Labs. With a deep breath, Barry plastered a fake smile on his face and raced to meet his team. He appeared in front of Caitlin, Cisco and Joe mere moments later, cowl down and frown still set deep in his features. It dropped at the concerned expressions on the others' faces. 

"Is everything okay, Barry?" Joe asked, stepping forward to meet Barry, who paused in the centre of the room, all eyes on him. A _'no'_  almost slipped out of his mouth until the thought of Iris flittered through his mind - why should he put her through any more grief, especially when he wasn't even sure of what he saw himself? No. He'd keep this a secret. To himself. For now. 

Forcing a smile, Barry shrugged, trying to appear as nonchalant as he could. "Everything's fine, Joe. I'm just kind of bummed that Cold and Heatwave got away."

"Yeah," Cisco agreed, speaking around the straw in his mouth. He took a sip of his smoothie before he continued. "What was up with that? No offence Barry, but you seemed really off your game tonight. Was it that new meta?"

"Uh, I guess?" Barry tried, attempting to ignore the suspicion rising on Cisco's face. "We haven't really discovered anyone with similar powers before. Just threw me off a little is all. I'm sure I'll get him next time." Cisco didn't look convinced, but he didn't press, which Barry was grateful for. He needed time to work out what was going on. 

_Eddie alive? We've seen crazier things, it seems._

"Well, Cisco and I were trying to work out what sort of powers..." Caitlin trailed off, glancing at Cisco, who shook his head and shrugged:

"Still working on a name."

"Anyway. We're still trying to discover what powers this meta gained," Caitlin said. "Whatever they are, he clearly doesn't have them under control yet."

"Barely managed to scrape you," Joe agreed. "Though if he's working with Cold, I definitely think something is going on here."

Barry sped off and reappeared moments later, in civilian clothing, and he turned to address the team. "Whatever it is, we'll figure it out. But right now, I'm starving." Barry grinned widely at the looks on his friends' faces. "I'm craving Big Belly Burger. Wanna join?" He felt bad for asking when he knew none of them could: Caitlin was meeting up with Ronnie for dinner, Cisco's brother was visiting and Joe was picking Iris up, but Barry needed to play innocent. It would give him the time he needed to discover as much as he could about Len's new rogue before everyone else did. Barry bit the inside of his cheek, the sounds of his friends deep in conversation seeming further and further away as he delved deeper into his thoughts. There was someone he needed to see.

***

Eddie ignored Axel's excited "Welcome Back!"s and trudged straight up to his room, harshly launching his cloak across the space where it collided with his bedroom stand and sent his lamp toppling to the floor, plunging the room into darkness. His arm had stopped aching sometime in the van, but it didn't stop the hiss of pain that escaped Eddie as he threw himself on to his squeaky bed. His eyes scanned the ceiling, taking in the swirls and chips of paint that lined the dust. _Kinda looks like my Nan's house._ Eddie thought, trying to think of anything other than the welling anger in the pit of his stomach that clawed up his throat like bile. Right now, he didn't care that he looked like a teenager having a strop. He was _livid_. Eddie blamed Len mostly - if he hadn't been adamant that Eddie experienced the life of a Rogue now that he was incapable of joining any police precinct again (the struggles of being legally dead), then he wouldn't have run into Barry! Eddie didn't know why he was surprised, though. He was breaking the law - _him! A detective!_ \- so of course The Flash would show up to stop him. Well. Not _him_ , specifically, but he was there to stop the Rogues, nonetheless. 

"Knock knock." That monotone voice made Eddie want to grind his teeth, but his mother had raised him better than that, so he opted for a mediocre grunt instead. Just because he was a temporary Rogue, it didn't mean he had to act like one. For long, anyway. "Didn't peg you the hissy fit type, Detective."

"Shut. Up." Eddie ground out and rolled to a sitting position, staring at Len with a deadpan expression. "What do you want?"

"To talk," Len moved from the doorway and in to Eddie's room, where he leaned against the wall, arms folded as he fixed Eddie with an indecipherable look. Eddie did his best not to shrink away. "So. You're not very apt to this thieving business, are you?"

Eddie snorted and gave a short bark. "Unfortunately for you, Cold, when I was training to be a detective, they didn't really incorporate 'How to Get Away with Robbery', starring Viola Davis. It was more of _Castle_ , but, y'know, the only writer I had was-" _Iris_. Letting the sentence hang unfinished, Eddie snapped his mouth shut and turned away from the villain, staring angrily at the crumpled navy-blue fabric in the corner of his room. Nothing was said and minutes passed. Eddie thought Len had left the room until the mattress dipped and his head snapped around to see Len sat at the edge of his bed, a smirk on his face. 

"Come on, Detective," Len said. "I think you need to lighten up."

***

Barry strolled into Saints and Sinners a little after four in the morning, jitters flooding his body. Warm eyes scanned the scene and he tried to ignore the discomfort he felt at people staring at him as he walked further into the bar. The clack of pool balls collided resounded in the background. Barry sighed as he wandered, though his face lit up marginally when he saw Len sat at a booth, munching on his plate of chips - a familiar scene, Barry thought, though this time two plates of food were placed at the booth's table. Len seemed collected as he waited for whoever he was with to return. Barry deemed it the time to sidled into the space across from the cold crusader. He didn't have long, though. No way of telling when Len's dinner guest was to return.

"As delighted as I am to see you, Scarlet," Len drawled, not even casting the other man a glance as he fed himself another chip. "But I'm a little busy. I have guest tonight, so whatever you want will have to wait." Len gestured to the food in front of Barry before he then gestured Barry to leave the booth. He sighed and dropped the half eaten chip back onto the ceramic and finally diverted his gaze to Central's resident speedster. "You have thirty seconds, Scarlet."

"I need the name of your newest addition," Barry breathed out, impressed he managed to make himself understandable. His heart continued to pound a samba in his chest. Barry swore he felt his heart speed up even more as Len raised a precarious eyebrow, leaning an elbow on the table.

"And what's demanded this sudden need?" Len asked coolly. "Finally met your match? I'd be surprised: he's not very confident in himself yet." Len shrugged and threw the other half of the chip into his mouth. "But we're working on that."

Barry tapped his fingers against the polished surface. "Listen. It's very important that I get the name of that Rogue, Len." 

Another pause. Another chip. Another eyebrow raised. "Is it now?" Len pushed his plate to the side and leaned both of his arms on the table, staring intently at the other man. "Because when I give you that name, not only does it put him in danger, it jeopardises the rest of my Rogues, including my sister. And that's not something I'm very happy to do. You understand."

Barry mimicked Len's posture, only his hands were splayed in a negotiating gesture. "I do, Len. But I think there's something about your new Rogue that you don't understand." Barry bit his lip. "I think there's a past there that needs sorting out before he could ever be involved with you."

"We've all got pasts, Scarlet. Even you. Doesn't matter what he's done. Compared to some of the people in my Rogues, I'm sure Ed- I'm sure he's not done the worst." Len coughed, and Barry narrowed his eyes. _Ed?_ Barry didn't have time to question, because Len suddenly shot up in his seat, towering over the hero. "A word of advice, Scarlet? Leave it alone. It's for the best." Len began to walk away, and Barry turned in the seat, eyebrows furrowed together.

"Was that a threat?"

Len half-turned back to Barry, a smirk on his face. "What do you think?"

 

 


End file.
